Chapter 11 #2
Leo has touched down on yet another planet, one on which he’s standing in a forest of cardboard Gabes, each more handsome than the next.
Through the forest, human Gabe walks toward him, and perhaps the conditions of this latest planet are overwhelming Leo, because as Gabe approaches, he can hear a small thought telling him that the Post-it is already stuck on his favorite. Must … get back … to Earth.
“All right, you win this round,” Gabe says, stepping closer to Leo and leaning his head down. “You get to pick.”
Carefully, Leo peels the Post-it from Gabe’s forehead. He sticks it on the cardboard cutout of Gabe placing his arm across his chest.
“This one,” he says. “I’m afraid of upsetting Esme.”
With a chuckle, Gabe says, “Oh, she’s all bark.
But she’s the best. She’s really had my back through all the press and everything the past few months.
” He taps the cutout next to him. “She’s right that it’s good to get another endorsement right now, and she’s been working hard to get them.
We, uh, lost a couple after my announcement. ”
There it is again. That flash of vulnerability, which does bring Leo back to Earth and allows him to see Gabe—really see him—for a moment.
“Seriously? What fucking year is it?” Leo asks.
“Still 1953 for a lot of people, apparently.”
They both sigh, and Leo has to break eye contact before he’s beamed up again.
“Okay, yeah, Esme’s right, this shit is creeping me out,” Gabe says, his eyes darting around to each cutout. “We should get to practice, anyway.”
“Hold on,” Leo says, pulling out his phone, and he smiles for a selfie in the cardboard forest. “There’s no way I’m getting out of here without documenting this.”
Seated on a bench, side by side, on one of the dozen neatly aligned practice courts—a mountain range of fans in the bleachers, a desert mountain range on the horizon behind them—Leo and Gabe are catching their breath and drinking some electrolytes.
Like last time (and, please, hold for applause), Leo edged out the win in their practice match.
Unlike last time, it was much closer. Even with fans packed in and a few photographers on the sidelines, that nervous energy didn’t seem to plague Gabe as much.
There was less fidgeting with his backward hat, fewer slices into the net.
Leo can’t deny that they were in a groove today, a tight contest of sweeping backhands and smooth forehands, the two of them moving fluidly to one another’s shots.
There was a rhythm Leo hadn’t felt with Gabe on the court before, like he was finally understanding Gabe’s game better, like he could anticipate his next move faster. They felt like a synchronized pair.
“So,” Leo says, toweling off his face.
“Here we go,” Gabe says. He takes a sip from his water bottle. “Get it out. Get all the gloating out. Even though I will remind you, this was only another practice match.”
“Actually,” Leo says, “I was going to let you off the hook about that one.”
“Wow, thank you,” Gabe says, placing his hand over his heart.
“Please stop, you look like that cardboard cutout.”
The two of them are giggling like schoolboys, and Leo knows the fans and photographers must be eating this up, but he tries to push past his anxiety.
“But I’m not letting you off the hook about your recently revealed affinity for—what was it again? Smut? Naughty, filthy smut? I hope you didn’t think I forgot.”
“I do hate you,” Gabe says.
“Hey, truce, remember?”
“I take it back. I’m pulling out of the truce. I prefer war. Send in the troops.”
With the truce in mind, Leo knows he still owes Gabe even a morsel of his own vulnerability. Gabe can’t be the only one sharing if this little peace treaty will last. So, having told Tess and Ollie already, he might as well. He’ll just spit it out. He’ll disappear into the mountains if he needs to.
“Would you consider telling me about your obsession with erotica if—”
“It’s not exactly erotica, but go on.”
“—if I told you about my obsession with, um, The Golden Girls?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Gabe says, turning toward Leo.
“Yeah, I know, it’s embarrassing.”
“No, no, my abuela fucking loved that show. It’s even funnier in Spanish. But she watched it in English a lot, too. I think it helped her learn the language.”
“Wait, seriously?” Leo asks, twirling his racket.
“Seriously. She lived in Lima most of her life, but then she came to live with me and my parents in Florida.”
“That’s amazing,” Leo says. “I actually watched with my grandma, too. She lived with us when I was a kid. Do you still watch?”
“No, I haven’t watched it in years. But it sounds like you still do, huh?”
“I, uh, yeah. It’s kinda my thing on tour. It makes me feel more at home, living out of suitcases in hotels most of the year, you know?”
“Totally. It’s not too far off from my thing for … naughty, filthy smut, was it?” he asks, cocking his head. “I’d call it my guilty pleasure, but I don’t think you should feel guilty for something that brings you pleasure.”
Leo swallows.
“They’re just fun and campy and steamy. They’re my escape on tour, like you’re saying. Especially this season, when things have been a little, well—” Gabe trails off, instead pointing back to the photographers with his thumb.
Leo nods. “Yeah, I bet.”
“I know you think I love the spotlight, but—” Gabe starts.
“I’ll need you to confirm that those cutouts aren’t made into a shrine in your closet, yes.”
“But,” Gabe continues, shaking his head, “maybe that’s not exactly true.
Maybe that’s just what I want people to think.
I know that may come as a shock to you. But maybe I’d really rather just be up in my room with all my books.
Maybe while you’re busy watching The Golden Girls, I’m busy reading my smut. ”
“So what you’re telling me is that you’re not like other girls,” Leo says.
“Oh, yeah, I’m really just this adorkable bookworm who takes her glasses off and reveals she was beautiful the whole time.”
Yet again, Leo can hear a small voice in his head that, in this instance, says, I already knew the whole time.
Disappearing into the mountains sounds awfully good right about now.
Leo looks over to Brian for some relief, to come up for air. Brian catches his glance and taps his wrist.
“Shit, right,” Leo says. “I need to hit the gym with Brian. We’re doing another session to warm up before Tie Break Tens tonight.”
“Oh, I’ll see you there!”
“You will?” Leo asks while packing up.
“Yeah, I got a call this morning that somebody had to withdraw, so they asked if I could swap in last minute.” Gabe is using the bottom of his shirt to wipe some sweat off his neck, exposing his abs.
“Ah, sweet,” Leo says, trying and failing to pull his eyes away from Gabe’s torso.
Gabe catches him staring, and Leo clears his throat to reset the moment, his eyes darting back down to his bag.
“You’re sure you can tear yourself away from your erotica?
I could just bring one of the cardboard cutouts if you want. I doubt anybody would notice.”
“I do hate you.”
“Okay, fans! It’s everyone’s favorite night here in tennis paradise,” the announcer says, looking around at the six thousand seats of center court, nearly all of which are filled.
“It’s time to play Tie Break Tens! The same rules apply—it’s round robin-style and the first to ten points wins the round, whittling down to the final two.
What’s different this year is that we’re playing mixed doubles!
That’s right: Some of your favorite men and women will be teaming up to fight for the grand prize of $250,000—donated to an organization of their choosing. ”
It’s the night before Indian Wells begins and the temperature has plummeted in the pitch-black desert.
Its bright lights polluting the starry sky, the steep stadium looks like a UFO touched down in California.
The fans are bundled in sweatshirts, and the players are huddled beside the purple court, fuzzy white blankets wrapped around their shoulders.
Some top-ranked and some fan-favorite, the sixteen players are goofing around like they’re in gym class.
The two mixed doubles teams who will go first in the competition are pedaling leisurely on stationary bikes, lined up next to the ump’s chair, keeping their muscles warm before play begins.
Leo feels lucky whenever he gets picked to compete in Tie Break Tens, a night when the fans get to kick back and see top players have some fun together for a good cause—especially this year, when he’s hoping to claim his half of the prize money for the American Stroke Association.
His partner tonight is Tess, of course, and they’re hungry for the win after their unfinished run in mixed doubles this past US Open.
This event is for fun and for fundraising, but it would be foolish to think that these two—and all the players—won’t unleash their competitive sides, even when there aren’t any ranking points at stake.
“You ready?” Tess asks.
“Oh, I’m ready,” Leo says.
“Are they ready?” Tess asks, nodding to Ollie and his partner tonight, someone who’s making her return at Indian Wells, the tournament that changed the trajectory of her career: Liv LaRochelle.
“It felt right to come back on tour here, where I won my first big title,” she said in an interview ahead of the tournament, appearing cautiously confident.
“I’ll be playing Tie Break Tens for an organization in Canada that supports women recovering from mental health struggles. That felt right, too.”
The four of them have their seats scooched in close, wrapped in fleece blankets, looking like they’re ready to roast marshmallows.
“I don’t think they’re ready,” Leo says, turning his head toward the pair of blond Canadians, who are glaring at him.
“You two are embarrassing,” Ollie says.
“That may be true—” Tess starts.
“That’s definitely true,” Leo jumps in.